Reality Check
by Sapphiregirl
Summary: In the aftermath of the Witch's reign, the people of the O.Z. clamor for justice. Problem? They want Azkadellia's head. DG isn't about to let that happen—even if it costs her everything. Unfortunately, nothing is that simple. DG/Cain, Glitch/Azkadellia.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor am I making any profit off of this story. Everything belongs to SyFy; I'm merely exploring what happened after the credits rolled._

**AN:** Hello, all! Welcome to my first foray into the _Tin Man _fandom. I've loved the miniseries since it aired, but hadn't really entertained any ideas of writing for it until this little beastie attacked my brain a while back. I wrote 3/4 of it in a day, but then had trouble with the ending for over a year. Happily, I've remedied that. There will be four chapters.

One small note: this is quite angsty in parts. _Tin Man _ended before it could explore the aftermath of the Witch's reign and this is a possible outcome. Never fear, however! Where there's life, there's hope...and love. :twinkles:

_"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." _—_ John 15:13 (NIV)_

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><p><strong>Reality Check<br>Chapter 1**

The Witch was dead, to begin with. The monolithic tower of terror she had built from which to rule the O.Z. with a merciless, oppressive, clawed fist was a smoking pile of rubble. Azkadellia had been freed from her enslavement within her own body; the Royal Family reunited.

The news swept through the O.Z. like an unstoppable wildfire, spreading blazing elation, giddy joy, and hope like crackling flames. The Witch was dead. Princess DG was alive, having been dropped back into the O.Z. by a travel storm just like her namesake.

A new era dawned the day of the double eclipse, bright and clear. As one, the people of the O.Z. threw themselves into capturing the rest of the Witch's forces. For weeks, everyone rounded up the last of the Longcoats. Afterward, a fragile peace settled over the city.

D.G. should have known—they all should have known—it was only the prelude to something bigger.

She had been so certain things would work out, so…naive. She flung herself headlong into her duty as a member of the House of Gale, even though it meant learning Royal etiquette, protocol, and a thousand other things in between tactical meetings with Cain and military leaders.

Azkadellia remained in the shadows. She was recovering from the trauma she'd suffered during the Witch's use of her body and sensitive to the fear that still swept through people at the sight of her face or the sound of her voice.

DG blithely plunged ahead, confident everyone would make the distinction between her sister and the Witch. Yes, in hindsight, she'd been incredibly naïve. One joyous day and the overthrow of the Witch couldn't possibly make up for the fifteen annuals of chaos, fear, and misery their people had suffered.

_A storm is coming._

Free of the Witch's oppression, free from looking over their shoulders in terror and fear, the people of the O.Z. finally had time to take stock of their situation. What they determined they wanted brought a chill to the hearts of the Royal Family. The people wanted justice, revenge…blood.

Azkadellia's blood, to be exact.

Queen Lavender Eye's impassioned proclamation of Azkadellia's innocence by way of the Witch possessing her body did nothing to assuage deep, resentful anger. All anyone who had suffered at the Witch's hand saw when they looked at the Crown Princess was the Witch's face.

It wasn't safe for her to travel; Azkadellia stayed in the Palace as much as possible. "I can't be Queen, Deej," she told her sister one morning. "Our people hate me for what I—we—did."

"Not you, Az," DG insisted. "The Witch. And I can't be Queen—you had the emerald at the eclipse."

Azkadellia shook her head soberly. "I don't think it will matter."

Wyatt Cain, newly instated head of palace security, attempted to restrain DG's wanderings as well, but met with a surprising amount of resistance. Not that he'd expected anything different. He already knew the princess was as stubborn as a mule.

As hard as she tried to become what the entire O.Z. expected her to be, DG was a wild spirit who refused to be contained. Every so often the pressure would finally get to her, weighing down her shoulders and clawing at her throat. When it happened, she temporarily disappeared.

Cain was the only one who could ever find her. Azkadellia could if she tried, but she was reluctant to leave the anonymity of her chambers. So it fell to Cain to stalk the palace and the gardens until he stumbled across DG tucked away in a corner, doing her best to de-stress.

They had grown closer as time slid past, close enough that DG well and truly lost her heart without realizing it. The two of them had turned her disappearances into a game of sorts. As much as she often needed a few moments to herself, she delighted in giving Cain the slip and then waiting with bated breath and amusement for him to find her.

He always did. Especially on the rare occasions she made off with his beloved hat.

Lavender Eyes and Ahamo were aware of their daughter's penchant for evading her guards, but they understood why. Ahamo, more than anyone else. And with the struggle to rebuild the O.Z., they missed the steadily growing attraction between DG and the former Tin Man.

Jeb Cain, however, did not miss the signs. And he most definitely did not approve.

He confronted his father one day, eyes blazing and mouth set in a bitter line. Cain had only known Adora was dead for a few short months—how could he forget her so quickly? And flirting with a princess who was only a few years older than Jeb himself?

"What are you thinking, Father?" Jeb's eyes narrowed. "Oh, wait. You're not."

He could have said nothing else that cut his father more deeply.

Reeling from the stinging verbal slap across the face, Cain assessed his situation. Jeb's words revealed his own inner conflict. DG _was _a princess and much too young to have any real interest in an old, washed-up Tin Man such as himself. And Adora…guilt clawed at his insides. Jeb need say no more.

Quietly, humbly, Cain relinquished any tiny hopes he had nurtured regarding DG's affections and withdrew. He did not resign his post—he knew no one else would have any luck managing her. He barely kept up with her on a good day. Instead, he slowly and methodically extricated himself from all the little rituals and routines that marked the course of their friendship. He figured, done slowly enough, DG would never notice.

He was wrong.

At first DG thought nothing of his occasional absences, attributing them to his duties as head of palace security. But when they began to occur more frequently, and Cain gradually changed into a cool, aloof, taciturn shadow of his former self, she was left unable to account for the difference. It worried her, fractured the little piece of stability she'd managed to latch onto in this strange world.

Somehow, she'd lost Cain's friendship.

She noticed he was spending more time with Jeb, and that Jeb himself was no longer so cool and stiff toward her. He seemed justified. That was when DG realized Cain must have been forced to make a choice—she knew Jeb hadn't approved of their closeness—and Cain chose his son. She understood why, really, she did, but that knowledge did nothing to mend her heart.

For the first time in her life, DG experienced real, aching heartbreak. She was numb, like someone had taken a large spoon and scooped out her heart. She'd misread Cain; he didn't care for her the way she'd thought. _I _am _a nuisance_.

Not too long after that revelation, things in the O.Z. finally came to a head. The fragile peace they had established popped like a soap bubble in a patch of brambles. Bowing to weeks of mounting tension, Queen Lavender Eyes convened a hearing with representatives from the entire O.Z. to determine a solution to the unrest. The entire Royal Family was in attendance. Cain was nearly beside himself when he found out.

The day of the hearing, Central City was packed.

DG didn't think they could cram any more people inside the gates if they took a shoehorn and shoved. Several hundred people crammed them themselves into the Grand Hall of the Palace. Thousands more lined the streets outside. The hearing itself was being broadcast across the O.Z. for everyone else.

As she took her seat with the rest of her family and select Royal Advisors at a long table on a raised dais at the back of the Hall, DG scanned the crowd. Sullen, bitter, angry faces stared back. An ugly mood lay over the crowd; she could feel it pressing in on her with an itchy weight that left her body restless.

DG glanced sideways at the guards lining either side of the dais. She kept herself from looking for Cain, but she saw his son. Her heart wrenched when she saw the anger and resentment written all over his face. Even Jeb couldn't restrain his emotion.

Beside her, Azkadellia sat very tall and still. Her pale skin was even more bloodless than usual. DG resisted the urge to frown and chew her lip. _Az has been recovering so nicely; I hope this doesn't set her back._

"We shall begin." From her seat at the center of the table, Queen Lavender Eyes raised a hand for silence.

DG's stomach clenched. _Here we go._

A short, balding man stepped forward. Raymond Mason was the Crown's Chief Prosecutor.

Even as new as she was to the O.Z.'s politics and legal system, DG knew this was not a good sign.

After a few platitudes regarding the Queen's generosity in granting the hearing, Mason went straight to the point. "We, the people of the O.Z., have come before you today to demand justice for the evils perpetrated on this land for the past fifteen annuals by the Crown Princess Azkadellia."

It only went downhill from there.

DG had entertained a few, half-formed ideas of what to expect, but this was worse—far worse—than anything she could have imagined. Mason read through page after page, listing all of the people who had been killed, tortured, maimed, and otherwise wronged since the Witch took over the O.Z.. His words flew through the air like bullets; DG felt her sister flinch internally under the impact of each one.

Guilt bubbled in her stomach, burning the back of her throat with acid. _This isn't right._ She clenched her hands together in her lap, tight enough to cut crescents into her palms. _Az shouldn't be the one suffering for this—she had no choice. The Witch used and abused her for years._ Her eyes darted over the crowd. _None of them care that she's as much of a victim as anyone._

Her mother and father remained silent; monarchs or no, this was still a legal proceeding. There were rules. They seemed to be waiting for a break in the litany, a break that never came. Glitch's face was tight with suppressed anger.

Az said nothing—she didn't even move—but the expression on her face told everyone she knew she deserved every harsh words.

Mason finally paused to rest to rest his voice. Behind him, another lawyer rose to his feet. "The laws of the O.Z. are very clear, Your Majesty. They must be upheld." He paused. "Princess Azkadellia must pay for her crimes against the people of the O.Z.."

Queen Lavender Eyes finally spoke. "How do you wish this payment to be rendered?"

Mason did not waver. "A life for the lives taken, Your Majesty."

The bottom dropped out of DG's stomach. Her blue eyes went wide as she inhaled. _He's calling for Az's execution?_

For a second, profound silence fell over the Hall. Then the entire room erupted in a cacophony of shouts, hollers, whoops, and other sounds of agreement.

"Execute her!"

"She's not fit to live!"

Out of the corner of her eye, DG saw Azkadellia bow her head in quiet acceptance. The guilt roiling in the pit of her stomach morphed into molten lava, burning her up from the inside out. Without conscious thought, she shot to her feet. Her hands were still clenched into fists. "Stop!"

Behind her, Cain took a convulsive step forward. Raw whimpered at the sheer hate filling the room, but he kept his eyes on DG.

Her shout cut across the cries for her sister's blood. Her presence—tall, erect, blue eyes blazing—arrested the attention of the entire room. This, they could well believe, was the Princess who had saved the O.Z..

"None of this was Az's fault!" DG clenched her hands into tighter fists. "The Witch trapped her inside her own body for fifteen annuals and used her to take over. She's as much a victim of this as any of you."

Ugly murmurs swept through the crowd. A man in the front row tipped his head back. "Then whose fault is it, Princess?" Derision dropped from every syllable.

Behind DG, Cain's hand dropped to his gun and he fought the urge to shoot that man.

DG did not hesitate. "It's my fault," she said firmly. "All mine. I was the one who found the Witch and accidently freed her. And I left my sister when she needed me the most."

Everyone froze—including Cain.

In the shocked silence that followed, DG made a sharp gesture with her wrist. "Raw?" He came forward and she held his gaze. "I don't want to put you through this, but the O.Z. needs the truth."

He nodded. "Raw understands." Grasping her hand, he reached behind them to touch a large mirror hanging onto the wall. He closed his eyes and DG's memories of that terrible day played out for the entire O.Z. to see.

When it finished, DG looked out across the sea of faces. Shock was the predominant emotion, but she knew anger lay just beneath it. "I'm responsible for everything that's happened to the O.Z. in the last fifteen annuals. The Witch would never have taken Azkadellia if I hadn't freed her and run away. Don't blame her for my mistake."

She took a breath. "So, people of the Oz., whatever justice you want meted out, let it fall on me." She spread her arms wide. "I'll take it all." Her blue eyes swept over the crowd again. "I'll never be able to make up for everything you've suffered."

"DG!" her mother cried in a low voice.

It took everything DG had not to look at Azkadellia or her parents—or Cain. He'd said it wasn't her fault once, but deep down she didn't see how he could believe that. She'd cost him his family and eight years of his life. She'd cost the O.Z. a hell of a lot more than that.

After a long moment, the people seemed to shake themselves out of their stunned stupor. Whispers replaced the ghastly silence. DG remained standing.

Mason blinked at her before turning to confer with his associates. Then he addressed the Queen. "Your Majesty, may we request a recess?"

"Granted." Lavender Eye's voice held none of the grief in her eyes.

Without waiting for a command, Cain and the rest of the Palace Security hurried DG and the rest of the Royal Family into a safe room away from prying eyes.

Lavender Eyes and Ahamo each took DG by an arm. "My angel," the Queen began quietly, but DG shook her head.

"I'm no angel, Mother."

""DG." Azkadellia sounded close to tears. "You shouldn't—"

"Yes, I should." Stepping away from her mother, DG wrapped her arms around her sister. Through her voice remained firm, she couldn't prevent tears from welling in her eyes. "You wouldn't be in this position at all if it weren't for me."

She looked around the room, feeling Cain's eyes bore into her back. Her parents, Glitch, and the rest of their advisors were all staring at her as though she'd lost her mind. "Don't you see? If this will serve justice and let the O.Z. heal, then it's totally worth it. I'm the reason everything was destroyed."

"You're also the reason the O.Z. was saved, Princess."

DG finally allowed herself to meet Cain's eyes. They reflected pain, confusion, and an undercurrent of fury. Her throat closed up; she couldn't answer. _That ship has sailed._

Instead, she broke the look to take her sister's hands. "Az, you know more about ruling the O.Z. than I ever will." She nodded to the simply decorated room around them.

"DG—"

"You had the emerald at the eclipse. You're the next Queen."

The sisters stared at each other.

Queen Lavender Eyes stepped forward, her hands fluttering, but whatever she had planned to say was forgotten as a brisk knock came sounded on the door.

Cain opened the door. A lower-level advisor stepped inside and bowed. DG had always liked him; he was kind and never too busy to explain something if she had a question. His lined face was solemn now. "Your Majesty, the delegates have reached a decision."

"They have, have they?" The Queen raised her head.

DG's throat closed up again. She'd been so caught up in reassuring Azkadellia, she hadn't fully considered the implications of her offer. _This might be the last day I'm alive._

Her eyes sought Cain of their own volition, but she forced her gaze away before he noticed.

Later, DG would learn the delegates had wrestled back and forth with the question of what to do with her for only a short time. Knowing she had returned to the O.Z. and freed them from the witch, coupled with her open avowal of her own guilt, had calmed some of the bloodlust. There were a few who still called for Azkadellia's head, but the majority settled on what they deemed an equitable punishment.

Queen Lavender Eyes gracefully took her seat and folded her hands in an expression of polite interest. "What do you propose be done, Counselor?"

"Your Majesty," Mason inclined his torso forward in a respectful bow, "after reviewing the evidence and in light of the events of the past few months, we have concluded that death will not serve justice in this case. We therefore humbly request that the Princess Dorothygale be henceforth banished from the O.Z. to live out the rest of her days on the Other Side—alone and cut off from everything and everyone she has come to know here."

DG couldn't breath. _Exile_. Not death. Beneath the table, Azkadellia found her hand and held on for dear life.

Queen Lavender Eyes looked over the assembly. Cain, his eyes still searching for possible threats, did not envy her the position in which she found herself. Torn between her duty as a mother a separated from her child for so long, and a queen attempting to piece back together the fabric of a realm ravaged by a despot wearing her other child's face, she made the only decision she could.

In a quiet voice that commanded the attention of everyone, she said, "Justice must be served. We find this proposal acceptable. Princess Dorothygale, stand before us."

Willing her knees not to tremble, DG stood and made her way around to the front of the table, where she knelt. She held her head high as she met her mother's gaze.

"Princess Dorothygale, you are hereby banished from the O.Z.. This evening, you will be sent into a travel storm and exiled to the Other Side."

Bowing her head, DG accepted the declaration with grace.

Azkadellia barely choked back a sob.

DG tried to smile at her, to smile at her mother and father, but her face was frozen into a respectful expression. _What a time for all those princess lessons to finally kick in_, she thought ruefully.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. DG tired to soak up these last few precious moments with her family, but her brain couldn't seem to cooperate. Part of her was still shaken by how close she'd come to being responsible for her sister's death on top of everything else. Another part of her had shattered that morning when she fully comprehended the depth of the hatred seething in the O.Z..

_I was so naïve._

Golden sunshine slanted across the fields outside Central City. Dressed in the jeans and jacket she'd worn when she first arrived in the O.Z., DG stood on a platform awaiting the travel storm that would whisk her away. She had not been allowed to take anything with her. That stung, because in the last few months, Momsicle and Popsicle, newly reprogrammed, had moved most of her things to the O.Z. for her.

It looked like the entire O.Z. had come to see her leave. DG solemnly faced them. "I am so sorry. I hope one day you can forgive me."

Her gaze swept over her family, her heart wrenching at the tears coursing down Az's cheeks, and Raw and Glitch, before lingering on Cain. He stood next to Jeb, looking impassive. He'd said not a word to her since the Queens's verdict was handed down.

DG wasn't surprised. He'd been distant for months now; her departure would finally set him free from whatever duty to her he felt honor-bound to fulfill.

Dark, swollen clouds gathered in the sky above. With a roar, a swirling vortex snaked its way down to the ground. Fierce wind whipped DG's black hair around her face. Her knees threatened to liquefy, but she took a half a breath and threw herself into the whirlwind.

Seconds later, the malevolent clouds disappeared. Sunlight fell over the silent crowds once more.

DG was gone.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor am I making any profit off of this story. Everything belongs to SyFy; I'm merely exploring what happened after the credits rolled._

**AN:** Hello again! Sorry it took so long to get this up; I've been up to my ears in wall/ceiling paint and then discovered a dangling plot thread that had to be woven back into the story. Thanks to everyone who reviewed—glad you're enjoying! If you're also in the section of the U.S. experiencing the massive heat wave, stay cool!

**EDIT:** Thanks go to Kristinwd40, who pointed out that Wichita Community College does not exist—it should be Wichita State College. Apologies for the error; duly noted and fixed! Also, I fixed a couple of typos.

_"Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins." _—_ James 4:17 (NIV)_

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><p><strong>Reality Check <strong>

**Chapter 2**

Life in the O.Z. moved on. DG's confession and subsequent banishment took the wind out of the opposition's sails. Whether they were completely satisfied with it or not, justice had been served. Slowly, people began to put the pieces of their lives back into order.

Two days after DG threw herself into the travel storm, Queen Lavender Eyes formally abdicated the throne. The mood at Azkadellia's coronation was tense, but she glided through with grave dignity. Her sister had sacrificed her own future to save her life; she would not waste it.

A few people still muttered under their breath about Azkadellia, but in time others became quick to remind them of DG. Her bravery in admitting her own culpability and her willingness to shoulder the punishment had touched them, relieving some of the bitterness. Only later did it truly sink into their minds that the Princesses had been mere children. Grown men had cowered before the Witch; it was understandable how even a child gifted with magic could have been terrified by her.

Publicly, Azkadellia recovered with all of the poise and grace the O.Z. expected from its queen. Privately, the wounds took much longer to heal. She had been trapped inside her head so long it still felt strange to retreat into her mind and discover only her own thoughts waiting there. And she missed her sister. Those brief months she had been reunited with DG stood out in her mind like a glowing light.

To everyone's surprise, Ambrose—Glitch, as the Royal Family still affectionately called him—seemed to understand Azkadellia's bewilderment. Not because he'd been forced to share a brain with someone, but because he'd lost half his brain. It had taken him weeks to stop involuntarily flinching whenever he caught sight of her, but he conquered it. And in the process, he reached out to the lonely, scared young woman behind the crown.

They were both, he'd told her lightly, stuck in the same Munchkin tree house. In a way, people expected certain things of both of them, things that didn't belong to either of them anymore.

In the process of rediscovering who they were, Ambrose and Azkadellia fell in love. Their wedding smoothed over most of the lingering bumps and bruises in the O.Z.—if Ambrose could marry the woman who had removed half of his brain, things must be getting better.

Wyatt Cain lasted three weeks after DG's banishment before the emptiness of the Palace and his own guilt sent him to Azkadellia's office with a letter.

The young Queen greeted him with a soft smile, but he glimpsed the sadness behind her dark eyes. "Good morning, Mr. Cain."

He knelt. "Your Majesty."

Azkadellia folded her hands in her lap. "What can I do for you, Mr. Cain?"

The look on her face told Cain she already knew what he was going to tell her, but he extended the letter to her anyway. "I'd like to resign my post, Your Majesty."

"I see. What are your plans?"

"I'm going to rejoin the Tin Men, help 'em clean up Central City."

"An admirable task." Unfolding his letter, Azkadellia skimmed its contents and then reached for a pen. "We shall miss you here at the Palace, Mr. Cain, but we wish you the best."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Neither of them mentioned DG, but she remained an unseen presence in the room.

As he strode out of the room, Cain paused long enough to glance over his shoulder. "For what it's worth, Azkadellia, I think you'll make a fine Queen."

She smiled, even as her eyes threatened to fill with tears. "Thank you."

—- —- —- —

Cain moved out of the Palace and into a one-room apartment. Slowly, he began to rebuild his life—and his relationship with his son. He did his best to convince both of them DG was nothing more than a dear young charge, instead of the woman who had ultimately broken his battered heart by getting herself banished to a place where he couldn't protect her.

Jeb married his Resistance sweetheart and, when Azkadellia offered him his father's old job, only hesitated for a moment before accepting. As time slipped by, he watched his father retreat farther and farther into himself—into his duty. Oh, he roused himself whenever Jeb was around, but the young man could clearly see Cain's heart wasn't in living life. He was just going through the motions.

After the first eight or nine months, when the difference between the way Cain had been after the Witch's death and the way he was now became starkly evident, Jeb's wife tentatively brought up the subject of DG.

Jeb was initially upset, but the longer he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if he'd been wrong. His father had been broken inside, and somehow DG had enabled him to start healing. Surely Adora wouldn't have wanted him to stay broken the rest of his life, would she?

Guilt replaced anger. Jeb considered apologizing to his father, even framed the words inside his head at least twice a day, but every time he tried to get them out they always stuck in his throat. The Princess was on the Other Side and she wasn't coming back. What good were words?

—- —- —- —

The rest of the annual slid by in a flurry, followed by another annual. Azkadellia worked hard to restore order to the O.Z., and her people were healing. And while things had changed, life settled into a comfortable routine reminiscent of the Old Days. A few pockets of unrest still remained, but they seemed content to sit around and complain.

Until the morning someone poisoned Azkadellia at the palace in Finaqua.

It was an inside job; the cup of tea the Queen always took in her office after breakfast had been laced with a fast-acting, if bitter, poison. Had Azkadellia finished her tea, she would have been dead within moments. But she'd been nauseous that morning and the tea did nothing to settle her stomach.

When Ambrose came in a few minutes later, brimming with excitement over a new idea he'd had, he found his wife slumped over her desk, ashen-faced. He immediately shouted for the Healers. Jeb and a few of the Queen's closest advisors arrived on their heels.

While the Healers worked to stabilize Azkadellia, Jeb went on a palace-wide manhunt for the would-be assassin. He sealed the Palace off, though he knew there was a chance the assassin had already escaped, and rapidly tracked the poisoned tea back to the kitchen.

The trail was ridiculously easy to follow, almost _too_ easy. When Jeb marched into the kitchen, soldiers flanking him, he found everyone in a flutter—everyone except a gray-haired woman sitting on a bench with a cup of tea.

He didn't even have to ask her any questions.

She looked up at him over the rim of her cup. "Is the Witch dead?" Her wrinkled face was placid, but her dark eyes burned with a fierce kind of triumph.

Jeb recognized that triumph. He'd seen it on the faces around him when the Witch's Tower came crumbling down. "Did you poison the Queen's tea?" His voice came out in a low growl.

"I did." The old woman set her teacup aside. "She got what she deserved. She killed my husband and our two boys." Her face hardened. "Kept waiting for the Witch to get her comeuppance, but it never happened. So…" She shrugged.

Everyone in the kitchen stared at her in horrified shock.

With a satisfied smile, the old woman closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall.

"You've failed," Jeb said sharply. "Azkadellia still lives."

The old woman did not open her eyes. "Not for long."

Jeb turned to the soldiers behind him. "Arrest her." Even as the words left his mouth, a horrible suspicion dawned on him.

The soldiers stepped forward amid gasps from the other kitchen staff, but the old woman did not move. Seconds later, they confirmed Jeb's suspicions. She was dead.

—- —- —- —

Ambrose took the news with a combination of sadness and quiet fury. "That poor woman," he said heavily. "Having that kind of bitterness eat away at her insides until—" he broke off, bracing himself against a desk in the outer room of the Royal suite.

"How is she?" Jeb ventured to ask after a moment.

"The Healers think they can stabilize her." Ambrose mustered a weak smile. "Her Light is helping. She'll be fine."

Except she wasn't.

The Healers succeeded in temporarily stabling her, but Azkadellia did not improve.

Worse, the poison triggered a miscarriage.

News of the assassination attempt spread like wildfire, grinding everything in the O.Z. to a shuddering halt. Despite Jeb's best efforts to keep a lid on the situation, subsequent news that the Queen was dying seeped out of the palace like a dark, mournful mist.

In its wake, hesitant whispers that perhaps—just maybe, mind you—they ought to un-banish DG began to trickle to the surface. After all, people began to murmur, she and Azkadellia _had_ defeated the Witch. Surely reuniting the two sisters would save Azkadellia's life.

Jeb's thoughts ran along the same lines, but he didn't wait for a formal petition. Instead, he went straight to Ambrose. He knew what needed to be done. The O.Z. needed DG, and he needed to be the first to apologize for the way they'd treated her.

"Let me bring DG back," he said without preamble.

It took a moment for Ambrose to absorb what he'd said—a testament to his fatigue. His drawn face brightened a little, lightening the deep shadows smudged beneath his eyes. "DG," he said faintly. Then, in a stronger voice, "Yes! DG! That's it!"

"I'm sure an official request is coming," Jeb said quickly, "but let me go get her now." _Before it's too late _hung in the air between the two men.

Ambrose was nodding, hope flowering to life in his expression. "Yes, yes." He looked at Jeb. "Cain will—"

"No," Jeb said sharply. "We don't have time to get him here. This is something I need to do." He glanced at the door to Azkadellia's bedchamber. "Where is DG?"

"Come with me," Ambrose said.

Ambrose led Jeb through the palace to his workshop, where he grabbed one of the new travel storm controllers he had recently designed. Then they hastened outside. "Nobody knows where she is exactly," he explained in a rush. "Rules of exile and all that rubbish. We're not allowed to check on her."

He waved the controller. "This, however, will take you to her general location."

Ambrose set to work punching buttons and twisting dials, while Jeb watched in a kind of grim fascination. As the sky darkened and the wind began to pick up, he clamped a hand down on his hat. "How long do I have?"

"Three days." The shadows under Ambrose's eyes deepened again. "Azkadee's Light is strong and she's fighting, but she's getting progressively weaker. The Healers don't think she'll make it more than a few days."

"I'll find DG," Jeb said gravely. "I promise."

A travel storm snaked down from the now-black sky.

Jeb clapped Ambrose on the shoulder. "Tell my wife I'll be home soon."

"Jeb" Ambrose called over the howling wind. "Wherever the travel storm takes you, that's where you have to be in three days!"

With a crisp salute, Jeb jumped into the vortex.

—- —- —- —

The travel storm spit Jeb out in a place that was at once completely familiar and completely unlike anything he had ever laid eyes before. For starters, only one sun shone down on him from a robin's egg blue sky. It made the day seem a little dimmer than it would have been at home.

Picking himself up off a wide expanse of grass, he ignored the bits of debris fluttering down around him and took a good look around. He didn't know exactly where to start, but the sprawling brick building on the other side of the grass with a sign that said _Wichita State College_ seemed as good a place as any. _I've got three days._

If necessary, Jeb intended to start searching at one end of the city and work his way to the next, but he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. He was hoping locating DG would be a fast, easy, relatively painless process. She was a princess, and a mighty strange one at that. He doubted she'd be able to just blend into the woodwork.

He was wrong.

The moment he started nosing around the college, Jeb discovered he had his work cut out for him. Because here on the Other Side? DG wasn't as strange as everyone in the O.Z. thought she was. Here, Jeb realized with dawning horror, she would fit in much, much better than he'd thought. To varying degrees, _everyone_ here was strange.

Grimly, Jeb waded into the fray of college students.

It took him two days to track DG down. He'd thought to check Admissions first for an address, but as he was unable to prove he was her 'cousin from out of town', the lady at the desk refused to give him any information about DG or even any hints as to where she might be found. No amount of wrangling, negotiation, or sweet talking on Jeb's part made any difference. If this weren't a matter of life and death, he would have been impressed.

The only good thing about it was that he had at least confirmed DG's status as a student here. _That means she's close_, Jeb thought, eying passing waves of students.

He launched into his next plan of attack: a relentless search among people on the grounds for anyone who knew DG. He came up with nothing that first day and ended up spending the night in a giant maple tree in the park. The next day, he resumed his search. Fear and concern for Azkadellia and the entire O.Z. lent a gravity to his face and voice that unconsciously predisposed most people to feel inclined to help him out.

The afternoon of the second day, he caught a break.

"I know her." A young man with spiky blond hair and multiple facial piercings shrugged vaguely. "She's in my finance class. Killer blue eyes." He squinted at Jeb. "You're…?"

"Her cousin," Jeb supplied. "We've had a family emergency and I'm trying to bring her home."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Do you know where I can find her?"

The guy shrugged again. "Class just let out. Shouldn't be hard."

It was. Jeb found a few other people who knew DG, but the princess herself had vanished into thin air.

"She's working," a brunette explained helpfully.

Frustrated, Jeb ran a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea where, miss? She's got to get to the doctor." He was getting tired of explaining about the family emergency, even if that part of it was true.

"I know where she lives," the girl said with an apologetic smile. "No idea where she works. DG doesn't talk much."

Jeb was too distracted making sure he could locate DG's address to pay much attention to that comment, but it came back to him when he saw the part of town in which she was apparently living. It was a dilapidated building in a section of the city that reminded Jeb of the Undesirable part of the Realm.

He swallowed. He knew without a doubt that his father would be furious if he ever, _ever_, heard DG had stayed someplace like this by herself. _Can't say I'm too keen on it myself._

A sense of foreboding niggled at the back of his mind. Whatever anyone in the O.Z. had expected to happen to DG when they banished her, this wasn't quite what he had in mind.

Assessing the situation with the skill he'd developed during the annuals he'd led the Resistance against the Witch, Jeb found himself a discreet spot and settled in to await DG's return. He received a handful of wary looks from more astute individuals, but on the whole he managed to blend right into the chipped paint and crumbling bricks of the building across the street.

When he finally—finally!—caught a glimpse of a slender, black-haired figure he recognized, Jeb melted out from the evening shadows and followed.

—- —- —- —

Slamming her rickety front door shut behind her and locking both the bolt and the chain, DG tossed her purse onto a little table shoved in the corner of her small, two-room apartment and kicked off her shoes. She arched her back, stretching sore muscles, and stumbled over to the couch. She was exhausted after a long shift at the diner on top of the day's classes, but she had a pay check and she'd have a roof over her head and food to eat for the next month.

It had been two annuals—_No, years_, she reminded herself—since the travel storm unceremoniously dumped her back in Kansas. Two long, lonely years filled with the struggle to survive in a world to which she no longer belonged. There were times she didn't think she'd make it, times she wanted nothing more than to sink into oblivion, but she held on with grim determination.

She'd never felt like she belonged in the Other Side; knowing why made being trapped here all the more painful. _That's the point_, she told herself, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. _Exile is supposed to be punishment._ She knew she deserved it, but sometimes it didn't make doing her duty any easier.

A firm knock on the door distracted DG from her thoughts. Wary of who could be calling on her at this hour of night and too tired to move from the couch, she raised her voice. "Who is it?"

"Princess?" asked a muffled voice.

DG froze.

The voice, strangely familiar, came again. "Princess DG?"

Something within her stirred, prodded into life by the title she hadn't heard in two years. Her eyes widened. _I know that voice._

DG climbed to her feet and crossed the ratty carpet, her heart pounding and her palms suddenly sweaty. She opened the door as far as the chain would allow and her eyes widened further at the sight of the man standing outside in the tiny hall. "Jeb Cain?"

"Princess." Jeb tipped his head to her and was about to say more when the door slammed in his face. He blinked, taken aback, but before he had time to reflect that this was going to be harder than he'd thought, the door opened again.

With surprisingly steady hands, given the circumstances, DG unhooked the chain and swung the door fully open. Light fell on Jeb's weary, stubbled face and she gestured for him to enter.

Sweeping his hat off, he bowed and stepped inside.

"Well," DG said as she closed the door behind him. "I can't say I'm surprised."

The remark caught Jeb off-guard. He stared at her in bewilderment.

She turned to face him. "Let me guess. People changed their minds?"

Jeb continued to stare at her. She was thinner than he remembered, with a worn look in her eyes that had no place in the face of a woman who was only twenty-three. He finally managed to make his vocal chords work. "How—how did you know?"

DG gave him a wry smile and motioned for him to sit on the couch. "I didn't think it would be over that easily." She perched on the edge of a battered chair and fixed tired blue eyes on him. "So," she began, forcing a levity she did not feel, "is it to be a short stop and a sudden drop, or have you come up with something more creative?" She frowned. "Electric chair, maybe—the O.Z. doesn't have lethal injections, does it?"

Utterly bewildered, Jeb let her ramble on. His eyes fell to her hands, which were clutching the side of the chair so tightly her knuckles were white, and something she'd said sparked recognition. "Short walk and a sudden drop?" His confusion deepened. "Lethal injections?"

Before he could work out exactly what she meant, the princess spelled it out for him. Tilting her head to one side, DG said bluntly, "Aren't you taking me back to be executed or something?" She raised dark eyebrows. "I'm surprised they only sent you."

Jeb had a split second to wonder how his father ever kept up with her before the full impact of her words slammed into him. "NO!" he shouted, springing to his feet. He flushed as she winced and lowered his voice. "It's not like that, Princess. Nobody wants you dead."

Fire flared to life in DG's eyes as she jumped to the wrong conclusion. "You mean they want Az again?" She was on her feet in an instant. "They can't—"

"Princess, please!" Jeb cut her off. "I've made a mess of this," he muttered. He ran a hand over his short hair. "Please, let me start over."

DG posted her hands on her hips and nodded once, suddenly every inch a princess.

Straightening his shoulders, Jeb dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Princess DG, the people of the O.Z. beg you to return home." The formal petition would be waiting when they returned; he was sure of it. There was no easy way to tell her the rest. "Queen Azkadellia is dying and we need you to help her." Lifting his eyes, he watched the color drain from DG's face.

"What?" she gasped, swaying on her feet. "Az is _dying_? How? Why? What happened?"

Unable to handle the wild, pained look in her eyes, Jeb outlined the assassination attempt and its aftermath as quickly as he could. He had barely finished when DG grabbed his arm, hauled him to his feet, and headed for the door. She looked neither gratified nor relieved to be going home, only fiercely concerned for her sister.

"Come on. What are we waiting for?"

Jeb swallowed and dug his heels into her carpet. He didn't want to have to tell her this part either. "Princess, we can't leave until the travel storm comes tomorrow night."

DG abruptly released him. "Right." She ran a shaking hand over her face. "Travel storm. Right." She did not resist when Jeb guided her back to her chair, but sat there, struggling to regain control of herself. Then she stiffened and raised wide, frightened eyes to his face. "I haven't used magic in two annuals."

It didn't take a genius like Ambrose to work out what she was thinking. Jeb mustered an encouraging smile. "You're sisters. You're stronger together than apart."

DG didn't answer. She simply buried her face in her hands to hide her tears.

For a moment, Jeb watched her. Then, uncomfortable, he occupied himself with studying her home. Or rather, her living quarters. The place didn't look like much of a home.

Guilt twisted in his gut again. There was an unfamiliar weariness about DG, a fatigue that spoke of hard work and little joy. Sketches of the O.Z. littered her otherwise bare walls and he found more than one familiar face therein—including a picture of himself and his father deep in conversation.

That was when things clicked into place inside his head. The princess reminded him of his father. The untiring energy she had exuded when he first met her had been quenched.

DG finally lifted her head. "How's the O.Z.?"

"Better," Jeb replied. "Much better. Though they still haven't repaired all the damage yet." And wouldn't, he realized suddenly. Not with the Queen Mother's magic gone, the Queen dying, and DG exiled.

She asked about her family next, asked about Glitch and Raw, evincing only slight surprise that Az and Ambrose were married. She asked about him, Jeb, after that, and then finally, hesitantly, asked, "How is your father?"

Jeb shrugged, but he was watching her, gauging her reaction. "He's fine. Rejoined the Tin Men and works in Central City."

DG nodded slowly. "Good. I'm—glad. He deserves to be happy." She looked down at her hands with a wry, self-deprecating smile. "Lurline knows I caused him enough trouble."

Jeb stared past her. Wyatt Cain, happy? A weight settled on Jeb's shoulders. His father hadn't been happy in months. Annuals, even. Thanks to Jeb, he hadn't been happy before DG left, and he certainly hadn't been happy afterward.

Cain had tried, Jeb knew he'd tried, but the part of his heart that didn't lay buried with Adora had shriveled up and died. Now Jeb was kicking himself for not realizing how good an influence DG had been on his father. Jeb knew what it was like to be trapped in a tin suit, knew the kind of mental and emotional scars it left behind. He'd been too angry to realize his father shouldn't have had to spend any more time being miserable. Whether Cain had known it or not, DG made him happy.

Jeb shook himself from his thoughts. "He misses you."

DG smiled again and gave him a look. "Yeah, like a burr under his saddle." She drew her knees up to her chest. "You don't have to try to make me feel better, Jeb. I'm glad he's moved on." She was trying to make Jeb feel better actually—thinking about Wyatt moving on was causing her physical pain—but things had been ugly and tense between the two Cain men for months before she left. She had been afraid it was because Jeb disapproved of his father's friendship with her…and she'd been right.

Giving her a measured look, Jeb switched subjects. "Anybody we'll have to alert if you leave for a while?" DG named a couple of names, not very enthusiastically and Jeb moved in for the kill. "Anybody special? I don't want to cause a ruckus."

DG turned wide blue eyes on him before shaking her head.

The news made Jeb feel both better and worse. Better because it indicated what he thought DG felt for his father was more than a princess's whim and worse because if he hadn't caused a rift between them before her exile… He shook his head again. No sense dwelling on that. He could only attempt to make amends now.

DG's quiet voice brought him out of his thoughts again. "Does the O.Z. really want me back?" Her face was impassive, but he read a flicker of disbelief in her blue eyes. She waved a hand. "Because honestly? I'm afraid I'm going to wake up in a few minutes and discover this was all just a really disturbed dream."

Jeb shook his head. "It's not a dream, Princess." He wished it was.

"Call me DG," she said, adding, "please?"

"DG," Jeb said, bowing his head.

"Az is really dying?" He nodded and DG rubbed her eyes, her shoulders slumping. "It's gonna be a long night."

Jeb thought she looked exhausted, and the fatigue of the past few days was starting to catch up with him too. He stood. "Prin—DG, I mean, you should get some rest." He started for the door. "I'll be outside if you need me."

DG lifted her eyebrows. "In this neighborhood?" She snorted. "I wouldn't advise it Jeb. You'll have to stay here."

He blinked at her, slightly caught off-guard. "But, Princess, your reputation—"

DG rolled her eyes. "There's no one here to see. Besides, we'll be in separate rooms. This building may be a dump, but at least the apartments aren't the size of a postage stamp."

She motioned to the couch with her foot. "It's lumpy, but it'll do in a pinch. Bathroom's to the left." Heading for a rickety door on the other side of the room, she glanced over her shoulder. "Good night."

"Good night, Princess," he replied automatically.

Sinking down on the couch, Jeb looked around for a moment more and then stretched out on the lumpy cushions. A moment later, coat arranged around him, he was asleep. Not even the unfamiliar noises of the Other Side could keep him awake.

He had found the Princess, and they were going to save the Queen. Things were looking up.

* * *

><p>Hope you enjoyed! I know there's been a distinct lack of DGCain interaction thus far, but it's necessary, trust me. Drop me a line and let me know what you thought. Til next time!


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor am I making any profit off of this story. Everything belongs to SyFy; I'm merely exploring what happened after the credits rolled._

**AN: **Hello, again, everyone! Apologies for the delay; all I can say is that I don't want to see a paintbrush again for at least six months. That, and the pesky plothole I discovered took more effort to fix than I had expected. But, I think it's all been straightened out now. It did, however, make this chapter much longer than anticipated, so I've split it. _Reality Check _will have five parts instead of four.

In other news, _Bad Faith_, the first book in my science fiction has been published! It's been a long journey; I'm really excited about it. Details are on my profile page if anyone's interested.

Thanks so much for the comments; I've enjoyed everyone's perspective. Enjoy this next installlment!

_"Yet man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward." ~ Job 5:7_

* * *

><p><strong>Reality Check <strong>

**Chapter 3**

The next morning, Jeb awoke not long before DG stumbled out of her bedroom. She took one look at him and froze. Then she blinked and rubbed her eyes, muttering something about the fact that her weird dreams always turned out to be real.

It didn't exactly make sense to Jeb, but he chalked it up to her having spent so much time here on the Other Side.

DG put together breakfast from a paltry bunch of supplies and Jeb ate it without complaint. She made a mean cup of coffee, he had to give her that. Then he watched her stare blankly at the wall while her mind raced through a list of things to be done before she left. With some of her old bounce, she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and began scribbling.

Halfway through, she raised her head to fix Jeb with a piercing look. He fought the urge to squirm; it felt like she was staring through his skin and straight down into his bones.

"Mr. Cain," she said evenly in what he could have sworn sounded just like Azkadellia's regal tones, "I want the honest-to-goodness truth."

He nodded mutely.

"Is this a probationary visit?" DG narrowed her eyes. "Because I've worked damn hard for this," she motioned to the apartment around them, "the last two years and I really don't want to have to start all over again."

"I beg your pardon?" Jeb stared at her, feeling suddenly like the child he'd been when he first joined the Resistance.

"I mean," DG said slowly and distinctly, "are you planning on bringing me back here after I save my sister?" Her voice caught. "_If_ I can save her?"

Understanding broke over Jeb's head like a ceramic pitcher. "The O.Z. wants you to come home, Princess."

She just looked at him. "The banishment has been permanently rescinded?"

Jeb didn't hesitate. "Yes." He was sure Ambrose and the lawyers would have the official release waiting for her. If it wasn't there…well…he'd make sure it got signed. One way or another.

A thought occurred to him and he looked around the apartment. "I mean, unless you _want_ to come back here, Your Highness." His gut clenched at the thought; this wasn't where she was supposed to be.

DG nodded stiffly. "Thank you." Her eyes dropped back down to her paper and she resumed scribbling. Inside, however, she felt hope unfurl fledgling wings. The double shock of Jeb's arrival and the news he bore had finally worn off, but she hadn't allowed herself to hope she might be going home for good.

List done, she called both of her bosses to let them know she was going to be out of town for a few days because her sister was gravely ill. She was reluctant to say she would be quitting; on the off chance that things in the O.Z. went south, she needed a backup plan. She could always make a quick trip back here to tie up loose ends later. She'd come a long way since her days at the diner. Now, 'dependable' and 'hardworking' were adjectives her employers most often used to describe her.

Afterwards, DG explained cell phones to a fascinated Jeb. She then hauled out a worn backpack and filled it with the few things she didn't want to leave behind. Her finished sketches, for one. Her sketchbooks and pencils, for another, and toiletries and a change of clothes or two in case they got stranded in the middle of nowhere O.Z.. As an afterthought, she also stuffed in some chocolate and the remains of a bag of dried fruit.

Jeb watched her in silence, a lump in his throat and bitter taste in his mouth. He knew too well what it felt like to pack up your entire life in a bag.

DG set the backpack by the front door and returned to her chair. There was nothing to do now but wait.

That was the hardest part.

Neither of them was very good at waiting.

Under normal circumstances, DG would have brought out a deck of cards to pass the time, but with Az's life hanging in the balance, she was in no frame of mind to play games. Instead, she did the only thing she could to keep both from going crazy. She asked Jeb to give her more details about everything that had happened in the O.Z. during her absence.

He obliged.

Jeb painted a picture of the O.Z. recovering from the war and healing. He talked about the hope people felt now, the peace that characterized lives instead of terrible dread. He told her about the people who considered her brave for taking full responsibility for the Witch, and watched her shake her head in guilty embarrassment.

It made him realize she'd never forgiven herself.

Yet another thing she shared in common with his father.

He didn't realize he was making a peculiar face until DG asked him what was wrong. He hesitated and then said bluntly, "My father still blames himself for what happened to us."

DG shook her head. "He shouldn't. It was my—"

"He doesn't see it that way," Jeb interrupted. "He never blamed you, even when I thought he should have." He sighed, ignoring the way her eyes widened. "Said you were just a child and that the wrongs of the last fifteen annuals shouldn't be laid on your shoulders. Or Azkadellia's."

DG's eyes were still wide.

Jeb rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't understand that two annuals ago, Princess. I don't think any of us did. We wanted the Royal Family—wanted Azkadellia—to pay for all the misery and heartache we'd suffered. And then when you—" he swallowed and shrugged. "Anyway, nobody wants to see the House of Gale snuffed out. Azkadellia's been a good Queen." He looked at her steadily. "And people have missed you."

He spread his hands. "That's what we've learned while you've been away, Princess. Everybody makes mistakes. You were the one who reminded the O.Z. that people need second chances."

Almost ashamed of how carried away he'd gotten, Jeb sat back on the couch. He felt a stab of combined panic and horror as DG's blue eyes filled with tears. Desperately, he said, "I never thanked you for rescuing my father from the Suit. So…thank you."

DG gave him a watery smile. "You're welcome."

"And…" Jeb swallowed, his heart thudding in his chest. "I'm sorry, DG. For everything."

She drew in a deep breath, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "I—I never meant to come between you, make Cain choose between spending time with you and protecting me." She dashed her tears away and silently commanded them to stop falling.

Jeb shifted uncomfortably; he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. "Well...it wasn't exactly that, Princess. You see I thought—" he rubbed the back of his neck furiously, "—I thought he had feelings for you and at the time it felt like he'd betrayed my mother."

DG went very still. _Oh, the irony_, she thought, and laughed softly.

Jeb noticed there was no mirth in the sound.

"Jeb," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. "Cain's never seen me as anything other than a kid." Her cheeks tinted slightly. "I'll—I'll admit there were times I wanted him to, but he never acted with anything other than propriety."

Jeb stared at her with a kind of morbid incredulity. _The worst of it is that she believes it._ Frowning, he rubbed the back of his neck again. "Look, Prin—" she gave him a look and he caught himself, "—DG, the point is that I was too hard on my father. I didn't think about things I should've." He looked at her earnestly. "He was happy around you. He smiled more. And ever since you've been gone, well, he hasn't been happy."

Fighting a sudden, irrational onslaught of tears at that, DG looked around the apartment, her eye resting anywhere but on Jeb. She tried to muster a smile. "I had a crush—a silly little crush." She ignored the voice insider her head arguing that it wasn't just a crush. That way led to madness.

"I gave him the slip whenever I could and was generally as annoying as a girl can possibly be. There's no way he actually felt anything else and—" DG broke off to give Jeb a strange look. "I can't believe we're actually having this conversation."

Despite himself, a corner of Jeb's mouth twitched. "Desperate times, Princess." She was, he realized, every bit as stubborn as his father had ever hinted.

DG held up a hand. "We're finished with this line of conversation, Jeb. Case closed."

It was her royal voice, and Jeb obeyed. But inwardly, he promised her that he would ensure she and his father ended up in the same room. They needed to talk.

For her part, DG mercilessly squashed the other tendril of hope Jeb's words had spawned. Cain didn't see her as anything other than a child. If he wasn't happy, it couldn't be because of her absence.

Her heart ached suddenly and she unconsciously placed a hand over it on her chest. Cain wasn't happy. _Why isn't he happy?_

The two of them lapsed into silence, but eventually Jeb roused himself enough to ask what she had been doing the last two annuals.

DG gave him a blank look until it sank in that he was serious. Her expression turned considering and then closed off, but she told him the story—a highly-condensed version anyway, edited for content.

Jeb, however, was astute enough to read between the lines. And the more he heard, the more he was glad it was him sitting here listening to this instead of his father. Regardless of his feelings, the kind of dangers she'd faced—possible starvation and homelessness, among others—would have made Cain's blood boil.

When the travel storm spat her back out in Kansas, DG realized the farmhouse she'd grown up in was in worse shape than she'd thought. Momsicle and Popsicle had retrieved her things for her in the weeks following the Tower's fall; she hadn't actually seen the damage the Witch's travel storm had done until now. The house wasn't livable and she didn't have the money to fix it.

That left her two options. Sell the place, or rent the fields to a neighbor, if she could find one who wanted room for extra crops.

Selling wasn't an option, not when she knew how entwined the farm was with her family history. Fortunately, one of her neighbors was looking to expand. That settled, DG moved to Wichita to finish college.

Rent from the farm paid the property taxes, but little else. DG found a job, found a crummy apartment in a terrible part of town, and then found another job. All she did was study and work, with food and sleep thrown in for good measure. A year later, she moved to her current apartment.

"I'll be graduating soon," she finished, "but the job market is slim. All the openings in my field are being snapped up by more qualified people who have lost their jobs." She laughed once and ran a tired hand through her black hair. "Not that I need a job anymore."

Jeb frowned. "But what about your magic?" He circumscribed a vague arc with one hand, encompassing the room. "You healed the Field of the Papay; surely you could do…something…with all this."

Frowning, DG looked down at the faint spiral line on her hand. "I tried. In fact, I think that's how I found my wallet, initially." Momsicle and Popsicle hadn't thought she'd need it and it had been left buried in debris. She shrugged. "But then later… I don't know. It's like it doesn't work here."

Her shoulders hunched slightly. "Or maybe I just don't have the control. There's still so much that I never learned."

"Well," Jeb said, in an attempt to lighten the heaviness that had engulfed the apartment, "now you'll have the chance."

DG raised her head and he saw the question in her eyes.

Meeting her gaze, Jeb leaned forward. "You can save the Queen, DG. Nobody can do it but you."

"I hope you're right, Jeb," she said quietly. "I really do."

—- —- —- —

Whispers of the attack on Azkadellia's life made it through the O.Z. grapevine to Central City much faster than anywhere else. The news left Wyatt Cain cold. Should the attack prove successful, the still-fragile hold the new Queen had on her people would likely snap. And with Azkadellia dead and DG in exile, the people of the O.Z. would be left twisting in empty air. That was by no means an optimal situation; even after two annuals there were still a few crackpots fool enough to think they could rule the O.Z. themselves.

Azkadellia would pull through, Cain was sure. She had survived the Witch; he was sure she'd make it through this too.

He was dismayed as anyone to learn the truth.

Standing in the dingy little bar he sometimes frequented of an evening, Cain realized there was only one way to save the Queen. They were going to have to send somebody to the Other Side to find DG. He knew just the fellow.

Cain didn't waste a moment. He was out the door and out of Central City like a grim, brown streak. He knew how politicians worked. It wouldn't occur to any of them except perhaps Ambrose that DG was the solution until too late, and then they'd waste further time debating the merits of the idea in a committee. And while that was usually all well and good, the Queen's life hung in the balance. Cain didn't intend to let a little thing like exile stop him.

Imagine his surprise, then, to have Ambrose calmly take the wind out of his sails with a few weary sentences.

"Ambrose," he said without preamble as a guard showed him into the Royal sitting room, "we have to bring DG back. She can save Azka—"

"I know." Ambrose tilted his head to one side, bemused. "I was wondering when you'd show up." He waved a hand. "I hate to break it to you, Cain, but you're too late."

For a split-second, Cain's heart ceased beating. He couldn't be too late. He couldn't have missed this chance to save Azkadellia and DG both.

"Your son has gone to fetch her," Ambrose continued.

Cain blinked, sure he'd heard that wrong. "My son? Jeb?"

"Unless you have another one we don't know about," Ambrose replied with a flicker of his old humor.

Cain could only stare at him, completely pole-axed. "Jeb went to the Other Side? To get DG?"

"Yep, sure did." Ambrose's face was drawn and tired, but dark steel glinted in his eyes. "He left before the lawyers got all the paperwork straightened out."

"Paperwork?" Cain felt foolish, but he seemed to be lagging a half-step behind Ambrose, struggling to catch up.

A full smile stretched across Ambrose's face. "The O.Z. is formally rescinding DG's exile. Jeb's bringing her back to save Azkadee." He glanced toward his wife's bedchamber and his smile slipped. "He's got until tomorrow to find her. The Healers don't think…" He stopped, unable to finish.

Cain understood. Azkadellia's time was running out. He swept his hat off to run a hand over his head. "Jeb went to get her."

"Volunteered," Ambrose said with a nod. "Said it was something he had to do."

"I'll be," Cain muttered. He didn't know what to say to that. Nor, with his purpose for coming abruptly snatched away from him, did he now know what to do with himself.

Ambrose gave him a too-knowing look. "Nothing to do now except wait, Cain."

"I'm no good at that," Cain grouched.

It wasn't true, of course. He _was_ a patient man, well-versed in the art of waiting. Eight annuals locked up in a Suit will do that to a man. He was also proud of his son for volunteering to brave the Other Side. A small part of him, however, was incredibly disappointed that he hadn't been able to dash off to rescue DG, to make up for not being able to save her two annuals before.

—- —- —- —

Evening took its sweet time to arrive, but it came at last. Jeb grabbed DG's backpack, despite her protests, and waited beside her out in the hall while she locked her door. Together they set off down the steps and out into the cooler evening air. DG soon realized they were headed for the grounds of the college.

During their walk, the sky darkened, heavy with the promise of rain, and thunder began to rumble. DG had lived long enough in Kansas to recognize the signs of an approaching tornado. Shaking her head, she linked arms with Jeb. "Why can't they just beam people up?"

The reference was lost on Jeb, but he didn't have time to ask about it. The sky turned green and a huge funnel cloud swirled into existence a hundred yards away. He registered screams in the background even as he urged DG forward. "Come on!"

Ambrose's device was supposed to allow the travel storm to return him to Finaqua, but Jeb had his doubts. Travel storms were known for being unpredictable.

"Here we go." DG took a deep breath as they neared the swaying twister and felt Jeb's grip tighten on her arm.

For the third time in her life, she jumped into a tornado. Swirling, rushing grey winds pummeled her body, whipping her up into the air. She lost her grip on Jeb's arm—or he lost his grip on her, it was difficult to tell—and then everything went black.

—- —- —- —

When DG's eyes fluttered open again, they were met by a sight she thought would never see again: the O.Z.'s double suns, framed by an impossibly blue sky. She bolted upright, wild joy surging through her veins. _I'm back! I'm actually back!_

Jeb lay a few yards from her, her backpack on the grass between them. He stirred groggily as she scrambled to her feet and stared around with wide eyes. They were in the meadow outside the palace in Finaqua. Beyond her, she could see the gazebo with the lake behind it. Tears pricked the back of her eyes at the sight. _I'm home._

Jeb was on his feet now; he bent to scoop up her bag. "Welcome home, Princess," he said quietly.

DG didn't have time to reply; a welcoming throng was streaming across the meadow to greet them. _They must have assembled as soon as they saw the travel storm. _Maids, servants, guards, advisors, nobles, common people—all were rushing towards her, all were cheering.

Nonplussed, DG watched them approach. She couldn't help but remember the last time she'd seen such a crowd—and felt the bitter anger that had been driving them. She didn't like to admit it, but she hadn't been good with crowds since.

"Your Highness." One of her mother's advisors—now Az's, she supposed—gave her a deep bow. "Allow me to be the first to tell you how happy we are to have you safely returned."

A flash of DG's princess training returned to her. Though she couldn't for the life of her recall his name, she bestowed the advisor with a grave nod. "I'm happy to be back as well. Where is my sister?" There was no point pretending she'd been restored from exile for any other purpose.

The advisor waved a teal-clad arm in a grand gesture toward the palace. "Follow me."

Amid resounding cheers and a rush of people that made her stiffen uncomfortably, DG was immediately ushered into the Palace. The cheering faded away as she set foot inside and found her parents and Glit—_Ambrose_, she reminded herself—waiting for her in the Grand Foyer. The three of them stood in a solemn line, backed by a larger crowd of people.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Dorothygale," the advisor intoned formally, bowing again.

Lavender Eyes, Ahamo, and Ambrose greeted her just as formally, but DG could see the tears sparkling in her mother's eyes. She wanted to throw herself into her mother's arms, but it had been two years—annuals—after all, and the last thing she wanted was to receive a scolding for ignoring protocol. Again.

Although, really, it wasn't like she'd learned enough royal protocol before she left in the first place.

Ahamo solved the dilemma. Stepping forward, he enveloped his younger daughter in a fierce hug. "My dear child," he murmured into her hair. "We've missed you so."

When he stepped back, slightly teary-eyed himself, DG didn't hesitate. Without a thought to the dozens of pairs of eyes watching the reunion, she rushed into her mother's arms. "Oh, Mother!"

Lavender Eyes was still a queen at heart; she maintained the bulk of her composure. But those watching saw a few tears slip down her pale cheeks. "My angel," she murmured.

DG pulled away at last with watery eyes and turned to Ambrose, who was watching her with a sad little smile. She hugged him too. "I've always wanted a brother," she told him in a whisper. Then, still quietly, she asked, "Where's Az?"

Ambrose swallowed. "I'll take you to her." He offered DG his arm and she tucked her hand through it, giving him a comforting squeeze.

As they moved through the Grand Foyer, the people gathered there respectfully split apart to allow them passage. DG felt uncomfortable again; she'd forgotten being a princess meant most people wouldn't look her in the eye.

Unbeknownst to her, a tall, broad-shouldered figure in a brown duster and matching fedora stood in a corner of the Grand Foyer. Wyatt Cain was too far away—though whether by accident or design, even he couldn't say—to get a good look at her, but what little he saw wiped the smile that had been flickering at the corners of his mouth right off his face.

Uncharacteristically silent, Ambrose whisked her through the Palace to the Royal chambers and a large bedroom lit with afternoon sunlight. Az lay curled on her side in the middle of the huge, canopied bed, a slender, still figure.

DG let go of Ambrose and moved to drop to her knees beside the bed. Az's eyes were closed, her face wan and thin. Her skin had a translucent cast that wrenched something deep in the pit of DG's stomach. She reached for her sister's hand on old instinct. "Oh, Az," she said in a trembling voice.

She didn't expect an answer, but Azkadellia's dark eyelashes fluttered. "DG?"

DG squeezed her hand tighter. "I'm here, Az."

"But…you're…gone," the Queen said faintly.

"I'm here now and I'll never go away again. I promise." DG pressed a kiss to her sister's knuckles, tears gathering in her eyes. "Come on, Az, you've got to fight this."

"DG…" Az's eyes fluttered again.

"I'm here, Az." DG's voice broke. "Please don't leave us. We need you. Don't go." Their clasped hands lit with a silvery glow. The light faltered, and then flared brighter. "Nothing can hurt us as long as we're together," she continued.

A tiny smile curled Azkadellia's pale lips. "I missed you," she whispered.

DG swallowed. "I missed you too."

Azkadellia lapsed into silence. After a long stretch—it could have been seconds, it could have been minutes—she said in that same little whisper, "I'm afraid I'm dreaming, Deej." Her eyes were closed again.

DG shook her head, not noticing the teardrops the motion sent spattering the creamy bedcover. "You're not. It's real. You're real, I'm real—" she glanced over her shoulder and spotted Ambrose watching them with pain in his dark eyes. She waved him over and grabbed his hand. Resting it atop Az's free hand, she continued, "Ambrose is real."

Az's eyes fluttered open yet again, and this time they stayed open. She glanced from DG to her husband and managed a small smile. "Oh, Ambrose."

"I'm here, Az," he said quietly, bending over her.

DG tightened her grip. "You've got to get better, Az. There are a lot of people who need you."

Az's thin face softened. "I will, Deej." Moments later, she was asleep.

DG did not leave Azkadellia's side the rest of the day. Azkadellia did not wake again and DG feared letting go would mean losing her sister to a fate far worse than the Witch. Their joined hands continued to glow brightly as she focused on letting the Light flow through her, praying the magic would be enough to save her sister.

Ambrose remained at Azkadellia's other side, holding her free hand. As afternoon wore on to evening, and evening gave way to the solemn stillness of night, he told DG the story of the past two annuals. She was pleased to see glimpses of the old, happy-go-lucky Glitch she had known return during the narrative of how he and his beloved Azkadee fell in love.

Lavender Eyes and Ahamo kept vigil as well, though they only flitted in and out of the room as the Healers permitted. They asked no questions of DG. She was grateful for the reprieve, but could only assume they were pumping Jeb for information. The thought both comforted and disturbed her.

Toward dawn, DG finally gave in to fatigue and fell asleep. She had long since moved up onto the bed beside her sister; the two slumbered side by side. Glowing light still emanated from their clasped hands. Ambrose himself dozed off and on.

No one thought anything of it until the Healers tried to wake DG to get her to eat something. She didn't respond. Neither did Azkadellia.

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><p>*cue the Drama button* Feedback is appreciated. 'Til next time!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor am I making any profit off of this story. Everything belongs to SyFy; I'm merely exploring what happened after the credits rolled._

**AN: **Hi! Merry post-Christmas! Didn't mean for this chapter to take so long to get out; the past three months have been crazy and I had to gut the last half of this chapter and redraft it. (DG had turned into more of a martyr than I'd intended.) On the plus side, I participated in NaNoWriMo for the first time and won. That was an experience. :D

Thanks again for all the comments and encouragements. I know a lot of you are looking forward to Jeb redeeming himself-here goes! Hope you enjoy!

_"But some will say, "You have faith; I have deeds." Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do." ~ James 2:18 (NIV)  
><em>

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><p><strong>Reality Check <strong>

**Chapter 4  
><strong>

Despite Jeb's best efforts to keep Azkadellia and DG's slide into a coma quiet, all it took was one overheard conversation to set the gossip grapevine fluttering. Within an hour, the entire Palace and everyone in Finaqua knew that things had taken yet another turn for the worse and that both the Queen and the Princess were in grave danger. Thanks to DG, Azkadellia might yet be clinging to life, but it was anyone's guess if either would survive.

Jeb would have publicly dismissed the wild talk as an exaggerated tale born out of panic and fear…except that he had seen the state the sisters were in with his own eyes. While the Healers assured Ambrose that Azkadellia was already showing small signs of improvement, they revealed DG was weakening. Jeb didn't doubt that. Even he knew this kind of energy expenditure had to have a price.

_But if anyone can do it_, he thought gravely, slipping out of the Royal Suite into the hall,_ it would be DG._

Nodding curtly to the guards stationed on either side of the door, Jeb set off in search of his father. Ambrose had pulled him aside a few hours earlier to mention that the elder Cain had arrived during his absence, but between his duties and answering Lavender Eyes and Ahamo's multitude of questions, there hadn't been any time for him to find his father. He was not exactly looking forward to the encounter. But if by some miracle Cain had _not_ already heard the news, Jeb thought it would be better coming from him.

He hoped.

A brief inquiry of a white-faced maid wringing her hands in a corner led Jeb to a room several corridors away. His father stood by the window, tension written in every line of his body, but he turned as soon as he heard the door open.

Jeb inclined his head. "Hello, Father. Glad you could make it."

—- —- —- —

Cain stared at his son. Jeb looked tired and worn—not surprising, given that dawn was fast approaching—but he had an aura of determination Cain couldn't recall seeing in a while. "Son." He swallowed and made a vague motion with one hand. "DG—is she—?"

"Too soon to tell." Jeb shook his head. Moving over to a brocade chair, he sat down with a semi-audible sigh of relief. "Raw and the other Healers say Azkadellia is doing a little better, but..." he trailed off.

Cain clenched his jaw, a muscle working in his cheek. "Ambrose told me you volunteered to get DG from the Other Side."

"I did."

"Why?" The question had been chasing itself in circles inside his head and now the rest of the words pounding inside his brain came rushing out his mouth. "You never liked her, Jeb. Or Azkadellia."

Jeb took a breath. He had prepared for this, after all. "Because Azkadellia is the Queen, Father, and she's dying, and I figured DG could save her." He forced himself to meet his father's eyes. "And because I owe her an apology."

The tight reign Cain had on his expression slipped. "An apology?" he demanded roughly. "For what?"

"Yes. An apology." The corners of Jeb's mouth turned down in a pensive, guilty frown.

"I know we thought banishing her would give us justice—"

"Justice?" Cain snorted. "She was a kid when it happened."

"—but we just…" Jeb hesitated. He looked at his father, his face troubled. "We just _tossed_ her over there into that—that—_chaos_ and set her adrift with nothing."

Horrible fear clutched at Cain's heart; his eyes widened. For _Jeb_ to be saying something like this, conditions on the Other Side must have been terrible. "Tell me everything."

It was an order, growled in the deepest, coldest tone he had ever used with anyone, let alone his son. Jeb couldn't refuse. Wouldn't have refused anyway. Cain was his father and this was his penance.

By the time Jeb finished his tale, Cain's hands were clenched into fists and he was almost vibrating with suppressed fury. DG could have been killed—or worse, from the sound of it—and none of them, even him, would have ever even known. He faced the window again to hide his black scowl. He knew Jeb was watching him, knew he might infer _things_, but he frankly didn't care.

"She asked about you, how you were doing," Jeb offered abruptly.

Cain just grunted. "'Course she did," he said tersely. "That's DG for you."

Jeb rose to his feet. It seemed wrong, somehow, to say what he had to say sitting down. "This may not be the best time, but I'll just say it, because I've been trying to spit it out for months."

"What?" Cain speared his son with a glance that still held lingering ice-cold fury.

"I was wrong. About you and DG." Jeb looked away, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I shouldn't have stuck my nose in."

Given everything else that was going on in his head, it took Cain a moment for his son's words to sink in. When they did, he grimaced. "Jeb—"

"She's good for you, Father. Took me a while to see it, but it's true. And I'm sorry for all the things I said to you two annuals ago."

"You were right," Cain said harshly.

"No, sir, I wasn't." Jeb spread his hands. "I was wrong and I've spent the last annual trying to tell you I finally figured that out." He softened his tone. "Mother wouldn't have wanted you to be miserable and alone. I just hope you can forgive me."

Cain closed his eyes; his son's words both soothed and reopened old wounds. "It's not that simple, son."

"Yeah, it is." Jeb turned to leave. Before he disappeared through the door, however, he looked over his shoulder. "You should go see her."

Part of Cain wanted to balk at his son's words, to insist that Jeb didn't know anything. The fact that his heart was still pounding and he felt vaguely sick to his stomach said otherwise. DG hadn't been back in the O.Z. for more than a few hours and she was already up to her neck in trouble.

Except that this time, there wasn't a single thing Wyatt Cain could do about it.

Swallowing a tight lump in the back of his throat, he went to find Ambrose.

—- —- —- —

If DG's life had borne any resemblance to a fairytale, or even one of the old stories Popsicle used to tell her, she would have drifted in and out of consciousness a few times as the hours slipped by, always just at the opportune moment to see or hear something vitally important. But this was the real world-or at least as close to the real world as the O.Z. came-and so she slumbered on, blissfully unaware of the grim, broad-shouldered figure hunched over in a chair at the foot of her bed.

Cain had joined Ambrose, Ahamo, and Lavender Eyes in keeping vigil beside the two unconscious sisters. None of them left unless the Healers forced them out for mundane things like eating and bathing. Or, in Ambrose's case, urgent state business.

Lavender Eyes and Ahamo did not seem the slightest bit surprised to see the Tin Man stride in behind Ambrose. In fact, after exchanging wordless glances, they welcomed him with somber nods. Under any other circumstances, the implications of that would have made Cain uncomfortable, but the danger DG was in rendered those considerations null and void. It was just as well; if they'd decided to throw him out, things would have gotten messy.

Cain was a silent shadow in the Queen's bedroom. He and Ahamo did not speak much, but let Ambrose-and occasionally Lavender Eyes-ramble on in fits and starts when the silence became too oppressive. Instead, Cain watched the slow, slow rise and fall of DG's chest with every faint breath she took, watched her skin take on a faintly translucent quality to match Azkadellia's…and felt his entire body tense in helpless frustration. If there was anything within his power to help them, he would do it without a second's hesitation. But this helplessness twisted his insides into knots.

DG was thinner than she had been two annuals before, more fragile. Even sleep couldn't quite erase the shadows of sorrow and fatigue and unfamiliar hardness lingering about her. Her hair was still long; Cain found himself oddly grateful for that. He had forgotten just how beautiful she was.

_Come back to us, DG_, he thought silently, wishing he dared move close enough to cover her free hand with his own. _Come back to me. _

It was his turn to be forcibly ejected the afternoon everything changed.

—- —- —- —

DG regained consciousness slowly, like she was floating up to the surface of a deep pool of water shot through with golden streaks of sunshine. Her eyes fluttered open; she registered golden light slanting through the wide windows of a spacious bedroom. _I slept too long_, she thought groggily. _It's late afternoon, at least._

Her memories and realization of her surroundings both hit her at the same time. Grogginess fell away as her heart rate spiked. Turning her head so fast she almost gave herself whiplash, DG reached out for her sister. "Az?"

Her sister did not reply. Azkadellia lay still and silent on the other side of the bed. Her dark eyelashes fanned out against her pale cheeks, forcibly reminding DG of the way she had looked when DG first set foot in the room.

"Az!" DG struggled into a sitting position, propping herself against the headboard and pillows for support. Panic clogged her throat, making it difficult for her to breathe, while the edges of her vision faded to black. _I can't have failed her again. I can't!_

"DG! Come on, doll, snap out of it!" Hands grasped her shoulders, shaking her back to reality.

DG's sight returned—along with what remained of her sanity—and she found herself looking into Ambrose's gaunt, concerned face. Heart pounding, she swallowed a sob and threw her arms around him. "Is she okay?" she cried into his chest.

She was too discombobulated to notice her parents and Raw were right behind Ambrose. Nor did she see the look of mingled heartfelt relief and hope the four of them exchanged over her head.

"Oh, doll," Ambrose said, sounding more like Glitch for a moment. "Don't ever do that again. You had us so worried."

DG pulled back to look at him, fierce blue eyes boring into his face. "Answer the question, Ambrose."

"She's better." Ambrose swallowed again. "Much better."

"But?" DG demanded. Worry lent a sharp edge to her voice.

"My angel," Lavender Eyes interrupted, her soft voice sounding near tears.

Startled, DG turned to stare at her parents. "Mother? Father?"

"We are so happy you are awake," the Queen Mother continued. "We were afraid—" She broke off, a troubled look in her eyes.

Ahamo came to DG's bedside and rested a hand on her head. "You've been very brave, DG."

DG stared up at her father, and then at Ambrose before turning her gaze to her mother. She took in the weariness permeating their features, the dark circles beneath their eyes, and the bottom fell out of her stomach. Their relief was so palpable, their reactions so strange… _It's like they've all thought _I've_ been teetering on the razor-edge between life and death too._

"What's going on?" she asked quietly. "Why are you all acting like this?"

Not surprisingly, it was her father who answered. "You and Azkadellia have been unconscious for the last three days."

"We were afraid we'd lost you," Lavender Eyes put in.

DG's jaw dropped. "What?"

A pretty Healer melted out of a corner and approached the bed to press a paw against DG's forehead. "Princess still sad, but bulk of pain gone," she announced.

Bewildered, DG tried to lean away from her. "We've been asleep for three days?"

"Yes," five voices said together.

A tremulous exhalation escaped DG. She fell back against her pillows, suddenly feeling a little shaky. Ignoring the concerned sounds everyone was making, she tried to make sense of the situation.

_I slept away my first three days back in the O.Z.. _She cast a considering glance at the spiral in the palm of her hand. _Well, I guess it's not surprising, given that I haven't used magic in two years—annuals_, she corrected herself.

Another jolt of panic shot through her; she bolted upright again, seeking the Healer's eyes. "AZ is going to be all right, isn't she?"

"Diagnosis is favorable," the Healer replied. "Princess now awake, so Queen wake too."

DG nodded and tried to summon a smile. "Good. Can't get rid of us that easily." Her stomach chose that moment to give a loud, rumbling gurgle. If she hadn't known that she hadn't eaten anything for three days, she might have been embarrassed.

"Princess is hungry," the Healer said with a knowing nod. "That is good." She eyed DG. "Clean up first."

Before DG quite realized what was happening, everyone was hugging her again and then sweeping out of the room as the Healer shooed them all away, including Raw. Another female Healer appeared from the next room and the two of them helped DG to the sumptuous bathroom.

While she soaked in a luxurious tub of hot water, DG nibbled on a bowl of soup and sipped a mug of hot chocolate. She barely tasted any of it. Her heart felt heavy in her chest. Az was still unconscious. _I never dreamed we'd be out for three days._

When she finished her bath, the Healers returned and bundled her into a clean nightgown. They were just helping her back into the bedroom—though DG had insisted she was capable of walking under her own power—when Azkadellia stirred.

"Ambrose" she murmured faintly, eyes still closed.

A lump formed in the back of DG's throat; she had to swallow twice before she could speak. "Az." Breaking away from the Healers, she tottered over to the bed on wobbly legs. "Az, you're awake!"

"DG?" Azkadellia's dark eyes fluttered open and she squinted at her sister. A heartbeat later, her eyes widened in shock. "It was real." She reached out a pale hand and DG took it in both of hers. "You're really here."

"Yes. And you're going to be okay."

The Queen's face lit with a delighted, if still exhausted, smile. "Thank you, Deej. I couldn't…have done it…without you."

Leaning down, DG wrapped her arms around her sister. "I'm so glad you're all right."

Neither of them noticed one of the Healers dash out of the room, but the sisters both jumped when the bedroom's double doors banged open. Ambrose rushed inside, almost tripping over his feet in his haste to reach his wife's side. His dark eyes were wild with joy and hope combined. "Azkadee!"

Azkadellia turned her delighted smile on her husband and held out her free hand to him. "Ambrose."

He bent over her with such reverent tenderness that DG had to look away. It was a moment just between the two of them; she had no part in it. Instead, she smiled at her parents, who had come in on Ambrose's heels. Raw stood behind them, beaming. DG sent him a tired smile. _I have a feeling the Healers are going to have a harder time kicking everybody out this time around._

Azkadellia squeezed her hand. Her face was still paler than usual, but she did look much improved. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." DG shifted, uncomfortable with the way everyone's attention suddenly shifted to focus on her. "Just sleepy again," she added with a crooked smile.

A thought occurred to her. "Is Jeb all right?" She hadn't seen him since they entered the Palace.

"Oh, yes," Ahamo assured her. "He suffered no adverse effects from his venture to the Other Side. Except, perhaps, for a bit of…perspective."

From the grave look he shared with Lavender Eyes, DG knew they had spent some time talking to Jeb—and he'd told them everything he knew. She suppressed a frown. _Can't worry about that now. They had to find out eventually._

The five of them had only a few moments before the Raw and the other Healers took over again. They insisted that Azkadellia needed to rest and DG needed to be moved to her old quarters so _she_ could rest. Only the knowledge that Ambrose and Azkadellia needed time to themselves to heal and grieve—as well as strict assurances that the Healers would get her should Azkadellia suffer a relapse—enabled DG to acquiesce.

Her parents helped escort DG to her own room. She was still weak from her magic expenditure and they seemed to need reassurance of her continued existence. Lavender Eyes hugged her fiercely and proceeded to tuck her into bed just as she had when DG was a child.

Ahamo waited for the Healers to leave the room before saying casually, "Wyatt Cain is here."

DG's fingers froze on the edge of her comforter; she willed herself not to evince much interest. "In Finaqua? I thought he was in Central City with the Tin Men."

"He was." Ahamo shrugged. "He showed up in Finaqua four days ago and said somebody needed to go to the Other Side to bring you back to save Az."

_He did?_ DG couldn't bring herself to speak the words aloud.

Lavender Eyes smiled wryly. "He seemed a little put out when Ambrose told him Jeb had already left."

"He's been keeping vigil with us," Ahamo said.

DG caught the curious undertone in his voice, but was at a loss to decipher it. She shook her head at last. "I don't understand."

Her thoughts reeled around inside her head like a drunken Munchkin. Cain had left Central City with the intentions of bringing her back from the Other Side to save Azkadellia? He'd actually kept _vigil _with Ambrose and her parents?

A small voice in the back of her head suggested that perhaps Jeb hadn't been quite as far off the mark as she'd thought. Ruthlessly, DG squashed the voice. She would not—could not—travel down that path.

"Would you like to see him?" Lavender Eyes offered. "I'm sure by now he knows you're awake." She shared a small smile with her husband, missing the way her daughter's eyes widened. "The palace grapevine being what it is, I'm sure everyone in Finaqua knows."

"No." The word emerged in a much sharper tone than DG intended. To soften it, she attempted an apologetic smile and a tiny shrug. "I'm not up for conversation at the moment, sorry." She couldn't tell them that the very thought of setting eyes on Wyatt Cain just now filled her with a combination of such longing and irrational terror she almost wished she was back on the Other Side.

Her mother merely smiled and bent to hug her again. "We're glad you're back with us, DG."

"Sleep well," her father added, as he nodded to the Healers, who were respectfully beckoning for them to depart.

DG barely noticed the Healers' soft instructions as they bustled about her room. She was too tired to focus on more than one thing at once, and Cain's presence in Finaqua required every spare brain cell. _What is he doing?_

Distressed, she slung an arm across her eyes. _More importantly, how am I going to avoid him long enough to figure out how to face him without embarrassing myself?_

_—- —- —- —_

Since his eviction from the Queen's bedroom, Cain was being held hostage by his daughter-in-law, who had taken it upon herself the last few days to make sure he actually ate something. She was ladling a second serving of mashed potatoes onto his plate when Jeb burst into the room.

Beaming, he locked eyes with his father. "They're both awake!"

For a few seconds, Cain was so overcome with relief that he couldn't even breathe. He inhaled, air rushing back into his lungs, and rose to his feet as a weight fell off his shoulders. _She's awake. _All was right with the world again.

At least as right as it could be, given the circumstances of the last few annuals.

"Good." Snagging his hat from an end table, he dove for the door.

Just before it shut behind him, he heard his daughter-in-law say, "Well, now that the Queen and the Princess are awake, maybe we won't have to force him to eat."

Cain strode through the corridors, elation and relief lending a spring to his step that had been missing since before DG's exile. All around him, the Palace's inhabitants exuded the same emotions. Maids, footmen, guards…everyone was laughing and clapping each other on the back and proposing toasts when the day's work was over.

He found a smiling Raw leaning up against the wall outside of the Queen's chambers. "I hear they're awake."

"Yes." Raw's smile widened.

Cain tipped his head toward the closed doors. "Visitin' hours up already?"

"Ambrose and Azkadellia resting now." Before a pinprick of worry could puncture Cain's happiness, Raw motioned down the corridor. "DG resting too."

Realization flooded through him. "Her old quarters?"

Raw nodded.

Cain clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks." He set off down the corridor in the direction of DG's former living quarters. Halfway there, his footsteps began to slow. _What if she doesn't want to see me?_

It was entirely possible, given the way he'd systematically cut her out of his life before her exile. _No. _Cain swallowed…and forged ahead. If anything, her brush with death had revealed his own heart to him—poor, battered thing that it was. _I have to at least try._

Turning the corner, he almost ran into Lavender Eyes and Ahamo coming back the other way. Startled, he did his best to keep his face straight and bowed. "Your Majesty."

Lavender Eyes looked at her husband as though to say, _I told you so_, before bestowing a kind smile on Cain. "If you're looking for DG, Mr. Cain, I'm afraid she's sleeping now."

"Oh." For the second time that week, Cain had all the air taken out of his sails. He stood there, clutching his hat in one hand. Awkwardly, he cast about for something safe to say. "She's—she's all right?"

"Yes," Ahamo said. "She's very tired, but otherwise fine."

"I'm glad." The deep relief resonating through those two words had DG's parents exchanging glances again. Cain felt the back of his neck start to burn.

Lavender Eyes chose that moment to glide forward and rest a hand on his arm, saving him the necessity of figuring out how to extricate himself from this situation. "Go rest, Cain. You need it as much as the rest of us."

He bowed again. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The royal couple continued down the corridor, but Cain stood there for a moment as the wheels in his head began to whir. Nodding to himself, he set off to find a messenger. Central City would be short a Tin Man for a few weeks.

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><p>One more chapter to go. Feedback is much appreciated. :)<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor am I making any profit off of this story. Everything belongs to SyFy; I'm merely exploring what happened after the credits rolled._

**AN:** Yikes. I am so sorry to have left y'all hanging—I really didn't mean to take so long to update this! I thought I had this chapter ready to go last May—and then I was in a car accident that had a major impact on my summer. (I'm fine now.) Life proceeded to grow steadily crazier from there. (On the up side, I just published my second book!)

I know I said earlier that this would be the last chapter, but I found a problem and ended up doubling the chapter in length. I've still got one thing to iron out before I can post the end, but y'all have been so patient that I couldn't sit on the first half any longer. Hope you enjoy!

_"Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy." _—_ Proverbs 14:10 (NIV)_

* * *

><p><strong>Reality Check<strong>

**Chapter 5**

DG awoke the next morning with Wyatt Cain on her mind. The shock of finding out he had been willing to brave the Other Side to bring her back to save Azkadellia had settled, but she was no closer to determining how she was going to handle being around him for any length of time. And there would be no getting out of seeing him at least once—if he'd kept vigil with Ambrose and her parents, she had a feeling he wasn't going anywhere until he saw she was alive for himself.

Her thoughts darted back to the mental picture she had formed of him sitting in Az's room while they were both unconscious and skittered away like a frightened animal. DG thumped a fist on her mattress in frustration. _It's not fair that he got to see me when I was in no condition to see anyone!_ Her cheeks flushed at the very thought.

Her stomach chose that moment to growl—loudly—and a hint of sunshine poked through her dour thoughts. _The kitchen will be open._ She threw her covers back and sat up, but froze the second her feet hit the floor.

The kitchen was open…which meant most of the palace staff would be up and about…which meant that _Cain_ might already be up and about. DG swallowed. _It's too early in the morning to deal with him yet._ _Time for Plan B._

Casting a glance around the familiar lines of her room, DG spotted her backpack sitting on a chair and brightened. _Perfect!_ She crossed to it, relieved to see she was nowhere near as shaky as she had been the day before, and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. The bag of dried fruit caught her eye and she smiled.

A moment later, dressed, and a handkerchief full of dried fruit tucked in her pocket, DG slipped out of her room into the corridor beyond. For one heart-pounding moment, she was afraid she'd find Cain guarding her door, but the way was clear. Snorting at her own foolishness, she set off for open air.

She needed to get outside. Maybe fresh air would provide her some much-needed clarity.

DG slipped through the palace like a ghost, feeling some of her old sense of mingled joy and pride at the accomplishment. Two annuals had not been long enough for her to forget the best routes out of the Palace. By the time she reached the lake, she was smiling again.

Her smile faded as she reached the gazebo and sank down on the old swing. The corded rope felt silky smooth against her fingers. A soft breeze played with her hair as she stared out across the gently rippling surface of the lake.

DG inhaled a lungful of fresh air and let it out in a rush. _I'm home._

Up until this moment, she hadn't realized that a small part of her had refused to believe this was real. The last few days had been…surreal, to say the least, and she'd had far too many dreams popped like soap bubbles by the strident tones of her alarm clock. She inhaled again, her fingers tightening on the ropes. _I couldn't imagine this._

DG began to sway gently on the swing and the comfortable rocking motion almost brought tears to her eyes. _So many, many things have changed since I left. I changed, Az changed, _Jeb_ changed… Cain changed. _

A twinge of that old ache surfaced and DG unconsciously rested her hand on her heart. _Cain…_ she thought wistfully. She allowed a tiny part of her mind to ponder what he might think of her now before crumpling the thought like a discarded piece of paper and tossing it into a mental trash can. _It doesn't matter._ Two annuals was plenty of time for cut ties to fray further.

She was idly swinging back and forth, munching on bits of dried fruit, when footsteps brought her back to reality. They were measured and deliberate, as though the person striding up behind her wanted to make sure she was aware she had company. DG appreciated the gesture, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care enough to turn around.

"You've got the entire palace in an uproar, Princess."

At the sound of that achingly familiar gruff voice, every nerve in DG's body froze. Perversely, her heart sped up. Wyatt Cain, in the flesh. _Just a few days ago, I thought I'd never hear his voice again._

"They're all afraid you've disappeared, or keeled over somewhere." Cain sounded torn between amusement and exasperation, with a grim undertone DG couldn't quite place.

_I should have expected they would send him. _DG's heart continued its frantic thumping, but when she finally forced out words, she managed to sound detached. "I needed some air."

"Sure you did."

Cain moved up to stand beside her in the gazebo—leaving a respectable distance between them—but DG did not look at him. She couldn't. If she did, one of several things might happen.

A), she might break down into tears. _That would be embarrassing_, she admitted to herself. B), she might say something stupid, something better left unsaid for both their sakes. Or, C), she'd have to fight the urge to hug him and never let go, when he had made it clear months before she left that he did not want her touch.

None of those would do. So, for once in her life, DG did nothing.

—- —- —- —

Slanting a glance down at her subdued form, Cain felt his flicker of hope take a sucker punch to the stomach. He was too old, he'd pushed her away long before her exile, and she'd had two annuals to forget about something as silly as a crush on a washed-up Tin Man. Words formed before he had time to think them through, slipped out before he could command them to stay in the privacy of his mind. "Won't you even look at me, DG?"

—- —- —- —

It was her name that did it. Anything else DG could have ignored, had set up defenses against, but not Wyatt Cain saying her name in such a quiet rumble.

Slowly, she lifted blue eyes to his face and mustered a tiny smile. "Hey, Cain."

He did not acknowledge her belated greeting, but stared down at her as though he could see every hardship of the last two annuals on her face.

_Well_, she thought wryly, _he hasn't changed in that respect._ It was a small bastion of familiarity in the strained awkwardness she felt stretched between them, permeating the air. "I'll go back in—I just—need a moment."

Cain still said nothing. He was leaner than she remembered, with a jagged, sharp edge to his features, but he was still as ruggedly handsome as ever. She found herself wondering exactly what he saw when he looked at her.

_It must be pretty bad,_ she decided, because when he finally spoke again, some of the old Cain—the Cain who had been her friend—poked through.

"Are you all right, kid?"

_Kid_. DG barely suppressed a scowl. Oh, how she hated that appellation. "I'm fine." She made the mistake of glancing up at him again—she couldn't help herself, not after two annuals of knowing she'd never set eyes on him again—and their eyes met. Cain looked…grieved. _And more than a little furious._

Her mouth dry, DG tried to swallow. _He knows._ Abruptly, she stood up and took a step forward before pivoting to face him. This was not a conversation to be had sitting down. "Jeb told you everything, didn't he?"

A muscle twitched in Cain's jaw and his pale blue eyes narrowed. "He did."

"He shouldn't have." Huffing, she folded her arms across her chest and looked away. "I'm fine."

"You almost died."

It was DG's turn to narrow her eyes. "I'm _fine_. It doesn't matter. Az is safe."

"You should be resting." Cain did not move. DG's eyes were a hell of a lot older than they were the last time he'd seen them.

"I will. It's just—" DG fluttered a hand. "I missed this. I missed my family." _I missed you_, she thought. _I missed the way things were before they all fell apart._

"The O.Z. hasn't been the same without you."

DG couldn't restrain an inelegant snort. "Oh, I'm sure it got along just fine."

Beneath the brim of his hat, Cain's eyes narrowed again, but DG didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Thank you for coming all this way to see me, Cain. You really didn't have to do that." _But I'm glad you did_, a voice in her head whispered. Her feet moved without her express approval, taking her across the gazebo floor to stand in front of him.

She looked up at his face, unblinking. _It's now or never. He's going to leave and that'll be the end of it. _Stepping forward, she gave him a brief, fierce hug—the hug she'd wanted to give him two annuals before but had never had the chance. "I'm back, Az is fine, I'm fine, the O.Z. is fine—you can go home now, Cain. Central City needs her Tin Man."

Disengaging and putting some distance between them, DG offered him a smile. This time, it almost reached her eyes. "Well…duty calls." Squaring her shoulders, she spun around and started back to the Palace.

—- —- —- —

_Go home._ The words reverberated through Wyatt Cain's head while he watched DG's slender figure retreat into the distance. _Home?_ He scoffed. He hadn't had a home—a real home—in annuals. Sure, he had his one room apartment in Central City at the moment, but the closest thing he'd had to a real home since Adora was those months he'd spent as Head of Palace Security.

_DG…_ He felt the old, familiar ache that plagued him every time the black-haired princess crossed his mind, but at this moment, after having spoken to her, seen her, _touched_ her, it ripped open a gaping wound inside him.

When he looked at her, he saw a pall of tired, wounded loneliness weighing down her bright, optimistic, headstrong determination. In the last two annuals, she'd known hunger, loneliness, abandonment, fear…he could see it in her eyes. And he had been unable to do a damn thing to help her.

Cain's hands clenched into fists. Jeb might have told him everything he knew, but DG sure as hell hadn't told _Jeb_ everything _she_ knew.

And now, after all this time spent coping with the fact that she was likely never coming back, she tells him to just go home?

_Things aren't that simple, Princess._

If Cain had not already made up his mind to stay, that would have done it. He had a second chance—or a third, or fourth, depending on how you looked at it. There was no way he was going to let her slip through his fingers again. At the bare minimum, DG needed a security detail that could stay with her despite her proclivity for escaping.

Cain suffered no illusions _that_ particular character trait had disappeared. He wasn't that lucky.

He hadn't been kidding about the Palace being in an uproar, either. The Queen Mother had awakened early and gone in to check on her youngest daughter, only to find the room empty. She hadn't panicked until it became glaringly obvious that no one had seen DG at all. That was when she'd called in the proverbial cavalry.

While Jeb set off to coordinate a search of the Palace and the surrounding area, Lavender Eyes had turned to Cain and asked him to find DG in a voice that nearly cracked with two annuals of pent-up emotion.

He'd promised he would find her, and he had. He still knew DG well enough to remember that if she'd left her room, she probably needed space to clear her head. And after being away from the O.Z. and Finaqua so long, he could count the number of places she would probably visit first on one hand.

Cain had been right, which should have comforted him, but it did not. There was a time when he would have figured into that list, as her friend and someone DG trusted. Now he had a sneaking suspicion DG might be attempting to avoid him. She'd talked to Raw, Glitch, Az, and her parents after she woke up, but not him.

Not that he blamed her, of course. Cain knew it was his fault, but the notion that she wanted nothing to do with him twisted something deep in his chest. _I have to fix this._

—- —- —- —

DG wasn't entirely sure how she made it back to the Palace. Her heart pounded in her chest; her knees felt like jelly and threatened more than once to give out on her. She kept taking deep breaths to steady herself, but it didn't seem to be working. _He just came out here to find me. That's all. He felt responsible._

She desperately needed a moment to herself, to lean up against a wall and _breathe_ until the very thought of Cain no longer sent her heart into paroxysms of mingled grief and joy. Unfortunately, every eye in the Palace strained for some sign of her. She only made it halfway back to the Palace before she spotted a gathering crowd by the door.

_Oh, for Lurline's sake_. Steeling herself, DG pasted a smile on her face and waved to the crowd of Palace personnel. As cheerfully as she could manage, she called out, "Good morning!"

"Your Highness!" one of Azkadellia's advisors burst out, mopping his brow with a handkerchief. "You're all right!"

DG felt a twinge of guilt and her smile turned contrite. She really hadn't meant to worry anyone. "Sorry. I wanted a walk before breakfast." She hesitated and then said, "I'm so happy to be back."

Around her, faces brightened and shoulders straightened.

"We're happy to have you back as well, Princess DG," the advisor said, to murmurs of agreement.

The crowd parted for DG and she set off to assure her parents, Azkadellia, and Ambrose that she was alive and well.

—- —- —- —

Blending back into the O.Z. this time around, DG decided, was both easier and more nerve-wracking than her first attempt had been. Easier because she now had a grasp of what was expected of her, and nerve-wracking because she'd spent the last two annuals relying solely on herself—and she was having trouble letting her guard down again. She knew it didn't compare to what her people had lived through under the Witch's regime, but there were moments she found herself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

If she still occasionally woke in a panic, fearful she'd dreamed everything, the people of the O.Z. were even needier in craving assurance that their Queen and the Crown Princess were both alive and well. With that in mind, Azkadellia started drawing up plans to reintroduce DG to O.Z. society a little earlier than the Healers deemed wise. She continued to improve daily, making leaps and bounds in her recovery, and waved the Healers off with gentle reminders that she knew what she was doing.

If DG sometimes found Azkadellia wiping away silent tears, or sometimes noticed her sister staring off into space with one hand resting unconsciously on her stomach, she said nothing. Azkadellia had nearly died and lost her first child in the process. Anyone would need time to recover. If planning social and political functions kept Az distracted, DG would do whatever she could to help.

Reintegrating into her role as Crown Princess helped distract DG too—from Cain. To her consternation, he did not return to Central City. He remained a fixture in Finaqua, a silent shadow in the corner.

_Why doesn't he just leave already_? she fumed to herself one night, as she tossed and turned, trying to sleep. _He should have gone home by now._

DG hated to admit it, even to herself in the privacy of her own mind, but she was afraid to consider what that might mean. Something was different about Cain, something she hadn't glimpsed in a long time, and it terrified her. The image of his face—quiet and grave, his blue eyes filled with an emotion she refused to let herself identify—haunted her thoughts.

The solution to this seemed obvious: she avoided him as best she could. _He'll go home_, she told herself. _Any day now, he'll go back to Central City._

He didn't.

To DG's combined astonishment and consternation, Cain did not return to Central City. Days slipped past and he remained a fixture in Finaqua, a quiet shadow everywhere she turned.

—- —- —- —

_Need coffee, stat._

DG stumbled down the corridor from her room, rubbing her eyes, which felt like they'd been lined with sandpaper. Her first welcome-home ball had occurred the night before—and she was so happy it was over.

Part of it had been fun. She loved the initial atmosphere, the glittering dresses and decorations. For a few moments, they brought back memories of happier times. Then the pressure of being on public display kicked in and she remembered how much she disliked having every eye on her, dissecting her every word and gesture.

Seeing faces she recalled from Az's trial now wreathed in smiles jarred her a little. She had whirled around the dance floor in a beautiful dress, choked down a few mouthfuls of otherwise marvelous food, and done her best to play the part of the energetic, cheerful princess everyone expected her to be. She hadn't known what else to do.

_That wasn't even the worst of it_, she thought glumly. The worst part was not having anyone to talk to throughout the evening. Before, she would have had Cain.

He was never her escort, of course, but as head of Palace Security, he had always been there to keep an eye on things. She used to snatch moments of conversation in between dances and speeches and everything else, watch him try to keep a straight face as she pointed out all the strange things she noticed.

Cain had been at this ball too, but after catching sight of him once, DG had done her best to avoid him for the rest of the evening.

Not that it helped much. She had still been hyperaware of his presence.

She scowled. Wyatt Cain was quickly moving to the top of the list of things that annoyed her the most about her return to the O.Z..

Deep in thought, DG did not see the broad-shouldered figure rounding the next corner on his way to the kitchen.

"Mornin', Princess."

DG yelped in surprise and whipped around, one hand flying to her heart. "Cain!"

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but it gave way almost immediately to concern. "You okay, kid?"

DG scrunched her nose in exasperation. _Not again._ "I just need coffee."

Cain nodded in understanding and waited for her to resume walking before he fell into step beside her.

DG felt her pulse pick up. She wanted to quicken her steps and leave him behind, but knew from experience it would never work. The sound of people rattling around in the kitchen broke the thick silence swamping the two of them. Normally, in a situation like this she would have felt words bubble up in her throat, but she was too exhausted.

The kitchen doorway was in sight when DG felt her forward momentum suddenly halted by a gentle—but firm—hand on her elbow. In her current state, it took her a second to connect the hand to Cain, but as soon as she did, she jerked away as though he had burned her. "What?"

Cain's mouth was set in that grim, stubborn line she knew so well, but his voice remained mild. "You're just about dead on your feet, Princess." He tipped his head in the direction of her bedroom. "Coffee will still be there when you wake up."

"I'm not sleepy."

"That so?" He arched a pale eyebrow.

DG wanted to smack that knowing look off his face, but settled for moving toward the kitchen again. "I have a session with Tutor."

"In three hours."

She was a little unsettled that he knew her schedule so well, but shrugged.

"DG." Cain blocked her way. "You need rest."

"I'm fine, Cain." She couldn't look at him; he was too close. "Please move."

He refused to budge. "Princess, you can either march yourself back to bed for another couple of hours, or I can call the Healers."

_He wouldn't. _DG chanced a look at Cain, took in the implacable expression on his face—and scowled. _He would. _"That's cheating."

His implacable expression did not change.

"Fine!" Throwing her hands up in exasperation, DG whirled around and stalked back to her room. She slammed the door behind her and threw herself on the bed, fuming. _How dare he act like he cares?!_

She rubbed the skin where he'd touched her and swallowed a lump in her throat. _Cain, how am I supposed to pretend I don't care that you don't want me when you won't leave me alone?_

Rolling over, she buried her head in her pillow to stifle a frustrated yell. After a few moments, her body reminded her how tired she was and she allowed her eyelids to slip shut again. _Maybe I will just nap for a few minutes…_

—- —- —- —

Cain loitered in the intersection of corridors that connected DG's room to the rest of the Palace. Part of him felt odd doing it—after all, DG wasn't technically his responsibility anymore—but the rest of him knew her too well to trust her to go down without a fight. That she had actually gone back to her room was in itself a testament to her fatigue. He looked down at his hand, slowly flexing his fingers. Had she felt the spark of electricity he'd felt when he touched her?

His hand closed into a fist, which he thumped against the wall a few times. It had been three weeks now, and he had made little to no headway in repairing his friendship with DG. Today was the most she'd looked at him since that morning in the gazebo—hell, it was the longest conversation they'd had since before her exile—and it was killing him inside. There were so many things he wanted—needed—to say.

He didn't know how to fix it. She wouldn't stay in a room long enough for them to have a semi-private conversation, and the rest of the time she ignored him as thoroughly as if he was a wall fixture.

His unhappy frown deepened. The worst part was that _everyone_ knew she was ignoring him. The back of his neck started to burn as he recalled the looks he'd been getting lately from Ambrose, Lavender Eyes, Azkadellia, his daughter-in-law…even Jeb and Ahamo. His flush darkened. Everyone but DG knew he'd come back for her, knew he was _staying_ in Finaqua for her.

_Everyone but DG…_ A tiny ray of clarity poked through the dim mass of hopeless confusion clouding Cain's mind. DG was by nature a rather caring individual. She'd hitherto shrugged off things that would have turned a lesser person into a seething wreck hell-bent on revenge. _If she's pretending I don't exist, it means either she hates my guts…or it's a defense mechanism because she doesn't. _

Cain rubbed a hand over his face in frustration as realization dawned on him. _She thinks what I said before she left still stands—and she won't give me a chance to tell her otherwise._

Nodding to himself, he straightened and sent one more glance in the direction of DG's room. _We're done playin' this game, Princess. You and I are going to have a chat and set a few things straight. _If she ignored him after he bared his heart to her…well, he'd have only himself to blame.

With that in mind, he set off to inform Tutor that DG would be missing her morning session. Then, gathering his courage, he went to find Ahamo. They needed to talk.

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><p>TBC...<p> 


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